


One Love for Bosie Douglas

by Books in the Blood (WholockHobbit88)



Category: 19th Century CE RPF, Wilde (1997)
Genre: Acceptance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 23:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11263260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WholockHobbit88/pseuds/Books%20in%20the%20Blood
Summary: "Once upon a time there was a boy should have had everything, but the boy was missing love. Until one day the boy met someone who did stay " All of Bosie's life he always kept people at arm's length by asking for love in the most unlovable ways until he met a man named Oscar who would not be pushed away no matter what Bosie did.





	One Love for Bosie Douglas

Once upon a time there was a boy should have had everything. He was born into an important family who had wealth and a good position. The boy himself was beautiful, with golden hair, pretty eyes and a fair face. Many people liked him and his mother doted on him, doing her best to spoil him. She thought he was beautiful and smart and let him do mostly as he liked. When he went to school he had many friends and was well liked. The boy should have had everything and in truth he did have much. But there was one thing he was missing; maybe even he didn't realize what it was that he was missing.

The boy was missing love.

His mother loved him but his father was cruel and mean. He would yell and insult the boy; he would hurt him and the others in the family. For years after the boy sought out unconditional love but he never found it. He had admirers and what he thought sometimes was love but really all he succeeded in was losing his innocence. The boy lost his innocence but he never grew up; inside he was still a little boy. If he yelled or screamed or cried enough, eventually everyone would leave him. There was no one who would stay.

Until…..

Until one day the boy met someone who did stay. No matter how many times they fought, no matter how angry they got at each other, he always came back.

Always…..

….

Oscar could tell before he even looked up that a fight with Bosie was imminent; it was like he could sense it coming on now. The heavy clump of his footsteps into the room, the throwing himself onto the couch, the loud sigh preceding his words…Oscar kept his eyes on his paper, continuing to scrawl the words that he so needed to write but was not surprised when Bosie spoke a moment later.

"I'm bored. Let's go out"

Oscar repressed a sigh of exasperation; this again. He loved Bosie, truly he did, but the boy could be so tiresome. He needed constant attention and entertainment. He didn't seem to understand that there was nothing wrong with being with your own company; in fact, it was often essential. He liked Oscar being a famous author, known for his plays and other writings; he liked the attention that Oscar commanded, he was sure. But he didn't seem to understand that all of that took time and uninterrupted silence to complete.

"I can't go out right now. I'm working" Oscar said as kindly as he could, eyes still on the paper.

The sigh behind him was louder and more pronounced now. "Well, then, stop working. It's boring. I want to go out" Bosie protested loudly.

Oscar felt tired as he set his pen down, turning around to face Bosie. He hated when he got this demanding and he could tell that he was not going to take no for an answer. "We cannot go out all of the time. I need to work. Where exactly do you think that the money for all of your enjoyments comes from?" Oscar asked, annoyance slowly creeping into his words.

Bosie sat up straighter, obviously gearing up for an argument. His face started to contort angrily, the way that reminded Oscar so much of his father. "I don't care where the money comes from, sitting around watching you work is boring and I am going out!" he said, his face growing redder by the word.

Oscar felt anger and annoyance rising up inside of him but forced himself to control it. Bosie could be so inconsiderate and selfish sometimes. Oscar knew him well enough to know that his ugliness was a front for deeper pain and insecurity but that didn't mean that it was any easier to suffer his outbursts.

"Perhaps you ought to care where the money comes from because if you continue to spend it without letting me spend any time working for it then it will soon disappear" Oscar said, trying to remain calm but feeling his patience waning.

"Why must you be so tedious and boring, Oscar?" Bosie asked angrily, standing up coming closer to him, his beautiful face turning ugly with hate. "Is that all you care about? Money and your precious work? Fine…..it's not as if I need you. It's not as if you give me anything that I can't get from anyone else. I can easily go out and find someone much more charming than you, more attractive than you who wouldn't care to spend money on me."

Oscar watched Bosie as he stomped across the room and slammed the door behind him. Bosie's words could be so hurtful; this was by far not the first time that he had said something like this. It was hard not to become hurt by what he said and lash out in turn. Often, perhaps too often, that's what he did. But not this time; this time he had seen that look in Bosie's eyes; behind the anger and the apparent hatred he could see that sea of pain and loss and insecurity, just ready to burst out any moment.

It had not taken Oscar long after meeting Bosie to see the pain that no one else apparently saw in him. Bosie to the public was confident, cocky and self-assured; he was beautiful and charismatic and he knew that full well. It was only this side of him that Oscar had seen in the beginning while he'd been wooing him. He recalled being surprised on that first night of intimacy between them how vulnerable he had seemed. Bosie was one full of passion but not often tenderness, at least as far as he had seen. But that night he had not pulled away immediately but had simply laid his head on Oscar's shoulder, wrapping his arms around him. It would not have been that uncommon an action without that little sigh, that little tremble that accompanied it. "What do you think, Oscar?" he had said, "Was I worth all the trouble?"

And that's what it came down to; Bosie saw himself as a burden, as less desirable once he was vulnerable and himself. Oscar had wrapped his arms around Bosie and held him close; he wished that he could have shielded him from whoever and whatever it was that had caused him to be vulnerable. At that time, he might not have admitted that he was sorely hurt but it had been obvious to Oscar that he was. His words were supposed to be a joke but Oscar knew that truly they were not. Someone had made Bosie believe that he wasn't worth affection; that he was a letdown.

"Bosie, my dear boy; you are worth all of the trouble in the world" he had told him in that moment. He could feel Bosie exhale against him as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

It had all come in bits and pieces. Bosie's anger and temper was obvious from the start but eventually came the sensitivity. As much as he was prone to anger fits, he was prone to crying episodes as well; he was more sensitive than Oscar could have imagined. Over time Bosie had come to confide in him how awful his father had been to him. That his father was an angry, hateful man who was clearly mad was obvious to everyone. That he had beat Bosie and verbally abused him his whole life was not what Oscar expected. His hatred for Lord Queensberry exploded in him like a cloud; he'd not only laid hands on Bosie to hurt him but he had affected him so in a way he deemed himself unlovable. Oscar looked at Vyvyan and Cyril, his own dear sons, and could not imagine what would compel a father to hurt his own children. He did nothing but cherish his children while it was obvious that all Lord Queensberry had done was wreak havoc to his. Oscar saw to it then and there to give Bosie the unconditional love and affection that he had never received in his life. Though he often got angry at him and said that he would leave Bosie, he never really did; he couldn't stay away from him.

Not that it was really for a lack of trying. His and Bosie's relationship was a mass of contradictions and hot and cold sentiments. Oscar had never met anyone who inspired such anger and repulsion in arguments, so much hurt and pain from his cruel words and at the same time find that he could not tear himself away from them. Bosie would get angry and lash out at him which would make his own anger rise and burn at him so that they often parted or claimed to be done with each other. Oscar always meant it; at least, he thought he did. No matter what Bosie would say in an argument, no matter how much he hurt Oscar, he always came back. At first Oscar thought this was a poor reflection of himself; he must have rather loose standards to put up with such treatment. But he soon realized that that wasn't the case; it was because of that unconditional love that he had promised he would have for Bosie. He wasn't forced to have it; he could have easily left him when he was being particularly nasty as so many had done. But he didn't want to; he'd found that though Bosie could hurt him like no one else could, he could also make his life brighter and more brilliant than anyone else could too.

This time, though he had let him go many times before, he couldn't let him go. Already, Oscar knew that Bosie would be regretting his words. He wouldn't say it, he wouldn't admit it, but he would feel it. Already, he'd be upset he was hateful and angry at himself for being so mean; undoubtedly he couldn't understand why he was so terrible to everyone. He didn't understand it; he just thought it meant that he himself was horrible. But he wasn't and Oscar knew the real reason for it and that's why he followed him.

Bosie was almost past the garden by the time that Oscar caught up with him. He was walking fast, his movements furious and full of anger as if he might just take off running at any moment. When Oscar grabbed his arm and turned him around, he could see that true pain once more. It was only for a second before his face scrunched up in anger again.

"Let go of me" Bosie demanded, trying to wrestle out of the bigger man's grasp but Oscar wouldn't let him go.

"No, I'm not letting you go" Oscar insisted, grabbing Bosie's other arm so that he had him firmly in his hold, unable to get away.

"You can't force me to stay here; I am leaving" Bosie said with finality in his voice. He glared at Oscar with one of his most hateful looks, the kind that made him reminiscent of his father but when that failed to put Oscar off, Bosie's face fell a bit. He was used to Oscar giving in to all of his demands, even the demand for him to leave.

"No you're not because I won't let you. I know that you're not really angry and I can't let you walk away when you are so clearly upset" Oscar said, his voice carefully calm.

"I am angry. I am angry at you and your need to control me when you clearly haven't any control over me at all." Bosie said, trying to twist out of Oscar's grasp. "You're the one who is upset…..upset because you know I'm going out and doing all sorts of interesting and lovely things with other people while you'd be stuck at home alone without your trophy of a boy!"

"Really, Bosie, I think that's all a bit much, isn't it?" Oscar asked in such a calm voice that it made Bosie's face turn redder. When Bosie was angry he was just like a child; children yelled and got angry at you and when you didn't get angry back they were thoroughly put off.

Bosie's hands were curled into fists, as if he could free himself he would be turning them on Oscar. Bosie had never hit him but Oscar had thought he might on occasion. Deep down Oscar knew he didn't have it in him; he'd been struck too many times to do it to someone he loved. Though he acted like he didn't some of the time, it was obvious he loved Oscar.

"You know I really hate you!" Bosie lashed out. He shouted it but Oscar could sense the fight going out of him. He said it to hurt Oscar, to make him back down; he was testing him to see if he could push him. But the pain was becoming more and more evident, harder to hide.

"And you know that I love you" Oscar said. His hands on Bosie's arms relaxed and he could have run if he wanted to but Oscar was glad to see that he did not. His eyes were on Oscar, startled by the care and understanding that he was receiving when he had been so terrible. Oscar meant it and Bosie could see that truly.

"I do love you "Oscar said more earnestly this time, convinced that he had Bosie's full attention, almost feeling him melt in his hands. "You can yell at me, you can call me horrible names and even turn your fists on me if you want" he glanced at Bosie's clenched fists, "But I'll still love you. No matter what you what you do, I will love you. I couldn't stop loving you if I tried; that should be obvious to you by now."

Bosie's eyes were intense on Oscar's; he could feel his want to give in but he simply couldn't. He didn't say anything but shrugged out of Oscar's grasp, suddenly intent on getting away. He knew that Oscar meant everything he said and it obviously terrified him.

"Bosie, why are you so afraid of letting someone love you?" Oscar called out after him, hoping for an answer. Was it his father's abuse? Was it his loose string of lovers that wanted his pretty face but not his volatile personality? Was it his obvious insecurity?

Finally, it was too much; maybe Oscar's question brought all of those thoughts to the forefront of his mind too. His back was still turned but he stopped running away; his head fell, his shoulders slumped and began to shake in sobs. Though it always broke Oscar's heart to see Bosie cry, this time he was glad for it because it meant that just maybe Bosie was beginning to understand that Oscar loved him unconditionally. Just maybe he would begin to understand that first and foremost what Oscar wanted most was to protect Bosie.

Oscar walked the short distance between them, turning Bosie around into his arms. This time there was no fight, no argument; Bosie wrapped his arms around Oscar and buried his face in his chest, crying like his heart was breaking and he was sure what it was. Oscar held Bosie tightly against him, laying his head against the top of Bosie's, golden hair soft against his cheek. Taking in that heat and warmth, that sweet smell that was just Bosie, Oscar felt himself relax despite the sounds of Bosie's pitiful cries.

"You shouldn't, you know. You shouldn't love me" Bosie said bitterly through tears. "I'm horrible and mean; I do things just to hurt you, say things I know will make you feel bad. You're always kind to me even when I don't deserve it which is most of the time. You deserve better, Oscar"

It was honest and heartfelt but it was his dear Bosie tearing himself down and Oscar couldn't have that. Bosie had said what others had often accused him of; Oscar's other friends had not been silent on their opinions of Bosie's behavior and their opinion that they believed that Oscar deserved to be treated better. Hadn't he even himself thought that after some of their ugliest, harshest arguments? But it wasn't true…..whether he really deserved to be treated better or not, he remained with Bosie because he couldn't stay away and pointing out his flaws wouldn't make anything better. It was obvious by the insecurities that Bosie had that he had been torn down by others enough to wound him deeply.

Putting his hands on Bosie's cheeks, he pulled him back so that he could look into his eyes, red and full of tears now. Had he been a different man, an unkind man, there were so many things that he could have said to wound him. But he was not an unkind man and he couldn't say anything but kind words to the man whom he had chosen to love whether he deserved it or not.

"I deserve you because I love you and that's all that matters" Oscar said, smiling at Bosie, "You must come to realize that actually you do deserve to be loved."

Bosie didn't say anything but his eyes were firmly on Oscar and somehow Oscar knew it would be okay. When he put his arms around Bosie once more he didn't pull away; when he put his lips to his forehead, he didn't brush it off. And when he led Bosie back toward the house that he'd been so desperate to flee, he let him lead him.

…..

It was ironic that what had started the whole argument was that Oscar needed to work and the rest of the night he didn't do any more work. It could have been said that Bosie still got what he wanted; Oscar was focused fully on him and not his work. But he was so sad and melancholy the rest of the night that Oscar couldn't see that he had won anything.

Bosie wept so bitterly that he easily went to bed early that night and Oscar felt no hardship in going early himself. When Bosie drifted off to sleep, he simply lay next to him, his golden haired boy, the boy who he sometimes imagined might be his ruin, sleep next to him. Even in sleep his face did not relax; he maintained an edge of sorrow on his young features even in his deepest sleep. When Oscar let his fingers gently trace Bosie's face, as if by feel he could memorize it, he got the greatest satisfaction out of the fact that his face eased a bit in sleep.

Eventually, though, Bosie began to stir and in the quiet, warm darkness of the room, his eyes opened blearily and found Oscar's.

"When I love people, they come to hate me" Bosie said, his voice quiet, almost inaudible. He was hard to see but Oscar could still see the sincerity in his eyes. He hadn't spoken since the encounter in the garden but Oscar knew this was his reply to it all and it broke his heart. Bosie didn't love people, and made himself unlovable in turn, because he couldn't. When he did, when he truly allowed people to love him, they saw who he was at heart and they rejected that. Bosie would rather people didn't care for him at all than to care for him and then reject him for being himself.

In the darkness, Oscar moved toward Bosie, letting his lips graze gently over Bosie's, his hand resting on his cheek. He would be the one expectation; the one person who didn't disappoint him, the one person who would love him no matter what.

"This time, I can promise you" Oscar said sincerely, "that's never going to happen"


End file.
